


Two Hands Ready to Hold

by bizarrebird



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Awkward attempts at romance, First Date, Multi, RvB Fluff Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-16 00:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14152443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizarrebird/pseuds/bizarrebird
Summary: Something strange is going on, the flowers left on her desk, the odd looks from York and Carolina, Kimball just can't quite figure out what it is they want.Written for RvB Fluff Week





	Two Hands Ready to Hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hinn_Raven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/gifts).



> For secretlystephaniebrown's prompt: York and Carolina try to figure out how to get Vanessa to take a break long enough for the three of them to go on a date. Kimball might not realize it's supposed to be a date.

It starts with the flowers left in her office. Kimball stares at them for a solid minute, frozen awkwardly in the doorway. There are plenty of flowers that grow on Chorus, though Kimball’s never paid a whole lot of attention to any of them, so she doesn’t know the names for any of the blooms in the bundle left on her desk. The colors are lovely, a bright vibrant red here and a soft, light blue there, dots of purple and yellow scattered about in between. 

For a second, she expects a trap, but there’s no trip wire across the doorway and the bouquet itself doesn’t seem nearly heavy enough to be concealing any kind of weapon or explosive. Maybe a mistake then, someone left them in the wrong office. She frowns as she inspects the flowers and finds no note. Well, that doesn’t mean they weren’t left there by accident. 

They do smell quite nice. Kimball still isn’t entirely sure what they’re called, but some of the scents are familiar, taking her back to spring, back before the air was more often tinged with the scent of smoke and fire. 

“Those look nice.” York’s voice draws her attention to the door that she’d forgotten to close behind her. 

In the last several months that he’s been hanging around Chorus, after arriving with a group of hirees to help put the planet back together, Kimball’s gotten used to York appearing almost out of nowhere. He had given out a fake identity back then and spoke with a bizarre accent, both of which he had dropped as soon as Carolina identified him. Even with the deception, Kimball had been in no place to turn down help from another highly trained operative, so--after a very long talk with Carolina and Wash--had agreed to let him stay and York immediately made himself comfortable. 

Probably a little too comfortable since he doesn’t have any problem wandering into her office and putting a hand on her shoulder to look at the flowers in her hands. “Got a secret admirer, general?”

“No idea,” Kimball says, shrugging. “There isn’t any note. I think they might have left these in the wrong office… although I’m not sure how they did. I was sure I locked that door.”

She glances behind her at the door, frowning a little. Maybe she didn’t close it properly, or the lock was faulty. A happy coincidence she’s got the best lockpick on the planet in her office. Her mouth is half open to ask York to check on it, but then she catches the fleeting expression on his face, his eyebrows rising and knitting together as he looks at the flowers, but it disappears too fast for her to gauge just what it was. “No note, huh? That’s weird. You uh… you checked around your desk to see if one fell off maybe?”

Kimball frowns again, shaking her head. “I didn’t see one.”

A little bit of looking comes up noteless and Kimball shrugs. “They were probably meant to be anonymous.”

“Yeah, probably.” There’s an odd frown on York’s face as he crosses his arms over his chest, but it dissolves into his usual easy smile quick enough. “So, what’re you gonna do with them?”

“I’ll probably give them to Donut,” she says, shrugging. “He likes this sort of thing, I think, and he’ll probably be able to find a decent vase for them.”

York cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t like them?”

Kimball hesitates, glancing over the flowers again. “They’re nice. I just don’t really have any room for them. Honestly, I’ve never really seen the point in giving people flowers, especially cut ones. They’re just going to wilt in a few days, not very practical.”

“Practical,” York repeats, snorting and shaking his head. He mumbles something she can’t quite hear, but before she can ask, he gives her a smile that makes it hard to focus on much of anything. “You and Carolina have way too much in common, y’know that?”

Feeling her mouth turn up, Kimball tips her head slightly to one side as she moves to take a seat at her desk. “Oh? Like what?”

“Well… let’s just say she’s not big on flowers either.” York takes his usual spot, perching on the corner of her desk as he picks up the bouquet. “I tried getting her some once and she just gave them to another guy on our squad, said he could make better use of them or something. Always thinking about the mission first, and the squad.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

York shakes his head quickly and gives her the grin he always flashes when he thinks he’s in trouble. Carolina warned her about that. “Course not. It’s good, I admire that a lot, really. Just makes me wonder who left these, if they left them for you. Clearly they don’t know you all that well.”

Kimball glances over the flowers again and hums, brow furrowing for a moment. “Maybe, they did at least get the colors right. Light blue’s my favorite and thought I looked good in red.”

“Yeah?” York fishes a flower out of the bundle and reaches out toward her, hands pausing until Kimball leans forward to let him tuck it behind her ear. Goosebumps rise on her arms when his fingers lightly brush her cheek as his hand drops away. “You’re right. But I’m pretty sure you’d look good in anything.”

Snorting, Kimball rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that. What would Carolina say if she heard?”

Joking about that makes it easier to ignore the slight pang in her chest at the thought. She knows about York and Carolina, everyone does. It’s impossible to be around them and not see it. Both of them have given bits and pieces of their history, enough for her to know that things weren’t exactly smooth between them back in Project Freelancer, so of course she’s happy for them now that it seems like they’re working things out now. 

What she doesn’t understand is why she keeps ending up in the middle of them. Carolina still insists on coming by her office daily to check in and Kimball tries to do her best to ignore the way her stomach flutters every time their hands brush as they sort through paperwork together, to say nothing of the goosebumps she gets in their one on one sparring sessions. And then there’s York, who seems intent on endearing himself to her. She’s been trying not to let it show just how much it’s working. 

For some reason, York just shrugs, eyebrows rising in a teasing wiggle. “I dunno, maybe we should go ask her.”

“As fun as that sounds, I really do need to get back to work,” she says, making a shooing motion with her hands.

He laughs as he straightens up, holding up a hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you get to it, but maybe I’ll see you tonight?”

“Tonight?” Kimball blinks, brow furrowing. Then it clicks. “Oh right, the meeting on the mission to Alexandria, of course I’ll see you there.”

For some reason, York’s shoulders slump a little, but he nods, giving a little salute. “Right, see you there, general.”

And with that, he goes. It’s not until he’s gone for several minutes that Kimball realizes he took the flowers with him. Maybe he knows someone who’ll have more use for them. 

* * *

“So… she didn’t like the flowers?” Carolina, to her credit, looks like she’s at least half trying not to be smug about it when York gets to her room and drops the bouquet on the desk that Carolina really only uses for her secret bonus workout before she leaves her room in the morning.

“If you’re gonna say you told me so--”

“I wasn’t!” She quickly looks much more sympathetic as she pats the bed next to her for him to sit. 

Letting out a sigh, York plops down next to her and lays back on the bed, glaring at the ceiling. “I was going to say I’d probably have it coming. Should’ve figured she wouldn’t like them. I can’t believe I forgot the note.”

Carolina winces sympathetically and shifts to lie next to him. “The note probably wouldn’t have helped. I just checked her schedule, she’s books solid the rest of the week.”

Groaning, York rolls over and presses his face into her shoulder. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

He feels the smile on Carolina’s lips as she kisses his forehead. “If it wasn’t hard, we wouldn’t want this so much.”

“Speak for yourself, Cee,” he says, snorting. “You’ve got a better idea than flowers, I’m guessing?”

“I might have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

* * *

Kimball’s used to people knocking on her door at all hours of the day, but that doesn’t stop her from being surprised when she finds Carolina waiting outside. She’s out of armor, so it’s probably not an emergency, so Kimball gives her a smile. “Carolina, what can I do for you?”

“Are you doing anything right now? I was going to go for a walk and hoped you might want to join me.” Carolina’s almost standing at attention, hands fidgeting a little at her sides, almost like she’s nervous. 

Kimball hesitates. There’s still a mountain of paperwork on her desk that she needs to get to and a dozen messages she needs to respond to. But… she hasn’t taken a night off in, well, probably a couple years if she’s being honest. And a walk won’t take too long. She nods. “A walk sounds nice.”

Carolina smiles and it’s almost blinding. She leads the way out of the building. Most of the occupied rooms in the city are in three different apartment buildings. Kimball’s own room is on the ground floor, nothing too big or fancy, but easy access for anyone who might need to alert her to some new crisis. Carolina holds open all the doors they come across on the way out and leads the way to a small footpath outside. 

The sun’s only just gone down, leaving the city in a soft purple dusk. Eudocia is much smaller than Armonia was, but that makes it easier to defend and supply. It’s not exactly the ideal place for soldiers, but the number of parks and small wooded areas surrounding it are a welcome change from underground bunkers and snow covered fortresses. The city had been under the Federal Army’s protection for most of the war, Kimball can’t remember the last time she got to see it before the war began.

Carolina seems to have their route already picked out and starts toward the closest park. The grass is a little overgrown now, flowers of all colors springing up at random, spreading on their own accord. Hands tucked into her pockets, Kimball glances about. There are a number of small stone footpaths that haven’t quite been taken over by the grass and weeds. Carolina starts along one and slows her pace a little for Kimball to draw even with her. 

“You seem to know your way around the area,” Kimball says, glancing at Carolina. 

“I like to jog through here in the mornings. It gets a little boring going around the track over and over again.” The darkening sky casts shadows on her hair, making it look like glowing embers of a fire. Kimball’s sure it would be worth getting burned to run her fingers through it. But that’s not a line of thought she should be having, so she quickly forces her gaze away. 

“You’re not wrong about that. I might have to join you sometime.”

“I’d like that.” And there’s a soft warmth to Carolina’s tone that makes Kimball’s face burn. She nearly jumps when Carolina’s arm lightly brushes against hers, but can’t make herself pull away. The path is a little uneven, Kimball’s mismatched feet nearly slipping a few times before Carolina links their arms together to help keep her steady. 

Kimball shoots Carolina a small, sheepish smile, her face heating up as her stomach tries to turn itself in knots. Just ignore it, this is just a friendly walk, nothing she should be getting excited about. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Still adjusting to the new leg?” Carolina asks, eyes briefly flicking to Kimball’s obviously metal ankle poking out of the leg of her sweats.

“It’s taking some getting used to,” Kimball admits, nodding. “It’s a better fit than the last one at least, but it’s heavier. I think Dr. Grey got a little carried away with all the upgrades.”

“I can imagine, I saw some of the designs early on. Did she keep the cup holder attachment?”

Kimball snorts and shakes her head. “Unfortunately, no, there wasn’t quite enough room for that.”

There’s something oddly comforting about being able to talk so openly about her leg. It’s not as though prosthetics are uncommon on Chorus, Kimball’s fairly sure that two out of five people have at least one at last count. But it’s not something she likes to draw attention to, not in her position, people can’t look at her and see any cracks in her armor. 

The laughter fades and they walk for a bit in silence, the faint sound of crickets cutting through the cool evening air. 

“So,” Carolina says, and then pauses, like she doesn’t know quite how to finish. “How have those trade negotiations been going?”

Kimball sighs more heavily than she means to and shakes her head. “Do you want an honest answer?”

“That bad?” Carolina grimaces a little in sympathy. “If you want to talk about it…”

“There’s not a whole lot to talk about.” Despite the fact that Kimball means it wholeheartedly when she says it, they end up talking about it for another ten minutes as they wander through the park. 

It isn’t often Kimball complains about the work. It doesn’t feel right. But this is less about that, and more about all the lines of red tape she can never quite get through. Carolina doesn’t quite understand the exact situation, but she offers consoling words and vague threats against the people making her life difficult, which Kimball honestly sort of wishes she could take her up on, but she can’t, so she just laughs and gently squeezes Carolina’s arm. 

They follow the footpaths in a little loop around the park, pausing at the foot of a small hill where the path branches a few different ways. Carolina’s taken half a step up the hill when Kimball’s datapad starts buzzing up a storm in her pocket. With an apologetic wince, she pulls it out and sighs. Twenty messages. That can’t be good. 

“I think I need to call it a night,” she says. “This was lovely, thank you for inviting me.”

Carolina looks almost pained, casting the briefest of glances up the hill. “Are you sure you can’t stay for just another five minutes?”

The datapad buzzes incessantly and Kimball glares at it. “Not tonight. But maybe we could go for a jog tomorrow morning.”

“That… that would be nice.” Carolina gives her a smile as Kimball starts to head off. It sounds like she says something behind her, so Kimball turns to wave a little and can’t help noticing that the wave she gets back is a little halfhearted. 

Maybe Carolina wanted to talk about something else, she’ll have to ask her about it later. But for now, duty calls, it always does. 

* * *

It’s been a while since Carolina’s felt this defeated. This isn’t ‘not at the top of the leaderboard’ bad, but it’s somewhere between ‘got a B in English’ and ‘all that’s left for dinner is a giant pile of brussel sprouts’ levels. Still more than enough to make her want to kick something as she trudges up the hill. 

At the top, just off the path, hidden slightly by a small clump of trees, York sits up as she approaches, stretching out his legs on his side of the picnic blanket. She just shakes her head at his expectant expression as she sinks down next to him. 

“So… it went well then?” He’s already got that goofy little grin in place, but that doesn’t stop her from reaching over to flick his knee. Snorting, he holds his hands up in surrender. “So what happened?”

“The same thing that always does. Work got in the way.” Carolina sighs and leans back on her elbows, glancing over the picnic. It’s not really much, Chorus didn’t have much use for picnic baskets, so they had gotten Donut to fancy up a small ammo crate and then loaded it up with the most edible MREs they could find and a pack of oreos Carolina had promised Grif a week off of double lunch breaks for. 

Sighing, York reaches for her. She shifts until she’s sitting in front of him, his hands working out the knots in her shoulders. “It was a good plan, Lina. Not our fault Kimball has people pulling her a million different directions at once. We just have to figure out some way around that...” 

Carolina nods, the wheels already turning in her head. One way or another, they’re going on a date with Vanessa Kimball, and a spur of the moment picnic in a poorly maintained park isn’t going to cut it. No, if this is going to work, they’re going to have to do something special.

She sits up suddenly and turns to look at York. “How do you feel about dinner and a movie?”

“Cheesy and nostalgic, but I like where you’re going with this,” he says, already grinning. “What do we do first, Cee?”

* * *

Kimball frowns at her schedule, or what should be her schedule. It won’t load. Strange. Maybe her datapad needs and update. It probably needs a few dozen, she always schedules it for the next week and then the week after that and the one after that. Sighing, she shakes her head and tucks is away. Maybe she can get Simmons to look at it later. Tech isn’t really her area of expertise, she had even fought against Dr. Grey’s suggestion of replacing her prosthetic leg with a new, smarter version. 

She doesn’t think much of it, putting it out of her mind, trying to recount the schedule as best as she can remember it as she pours a large cup of coffee. Technically, she’s only supposed to have two a day, but no one needs to know she’s on her fifth. She’s fairly certain no one would rat her out to Dr. Grey, except maybe Smith, but she still jumps and quickly puts the pot down when two sets of footsteps enter the break room. 

Turning, she lets out a breath of relief. Just York and Carolina. Neither of them would turn her in, especially not when she knows for a fact Carolina makes twice as many trips to the coffee maker and York has probably been handed enough pamphlets about smoking to wall paper his room with them. They both give matching nods of greeting, almost perfectly in sync and suddenly Kimball feels a bit like an intruder. 

“Morning,” she says, nodding back and sipping at her coffee. “I thought you had wall patrol this morning, York?”

“Got Wash to swap with me. He’s the one that asked,” he adds quickly and Kimball puts a hand up. 

“As long as someone’s on it.” She pauses for a second. Now why would Wash want more wall duty? Then it clicks and she smirks a little. “Let me guess, Tucker was the other person assigned for this shift?"

York shoots a finger gun her way, grinning. “Got it in one, Nessa.”

The nickname makes her blink, but she doesn’t mind it. Familiarity with her subordinates is something she’s never been good at avoiding, but she can’t really consider any of the Freelancers subordinate. She hides a smile behind her coffee cup as she heads for the exit. Or tries to, Carolina lightly catches her arm to pull her to a stop before she gets halfway there. 

“We actually wanted to ask you something, general,” she says, casting a glance at York for some reason. Maybe they want a bit of time off together, she couldn’t blame them for that really. They’ve both been putting in so many extra hours lately, if anyone deserves a break, it’s them. 

“Go ahead.”

“We were wondering if we could get the night off.” There it is. But Carolina goes on before she can answer. “And we were hoping you could join us.”

Kimball blinks at her, then York, eyebrows rising. Well that’s… odd. They’re both looking at her, expectant and hopeful. “Join you for… what exactly?”

“We were thinking dinner and a movie.”

What. She had to have heard that wrong. Or maybe he’s joking… but no, his smile is still as earnest as ever. That’s not the kind of thing she has time for, even if she hasn’t had a night out with friends in… well, years. She should say no, it shouldn’t even be up for debate, but she looks between them and hesitates. “I’ll… have to check my schedule.”

She pulls her datapad out when they keep looking at her and does her best to ignore the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Why do they want her there? Their first night off together in weeks and they want to bring someone who’s almost their boss along. Kimball is never going to understand Freelancers. 

“It wasn’t working before, but--oh.” The datapad is working now, her schedule looking up at her perfectly innocently. That’s strange. Stranger still is the fact that she knows beyond a doubt that there used to be a lot more on it. “It… it looks like I have the evening off. I could’ve sworn…”

She flicks through her messages and scrolls up and down the schedule, but the missing meetings don’t reappear. Glancing up, she finds York grinning at her brightly. “So you’re free?”

“Apparently so.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other little awkwardly, glancing between the two of them. “So… what time were you thinking for dinner?”

Neither of them stop smiling like they’ve won a prize until she has to leave to get to the one meeting she still has for the day. She’s going to have to double check her schedule again, maybe she just misread it or got the days wrong. In any case, she’s got other things to worry about. What’s the appropriate outfit for a third wheel to wear on a date?

* * *

There aren’t exactly a lot of restaurants left on Chorus now, let alone ones that are still up and running. So Kimball has no idea what to expect when she heads for the address York messages her, with a note to head to the roof. The building isn’t anything special as far as she can tell. It’s just across the way from the main wall running around the east side of the city. As she approaches, Kimball frowns. 

It’s quiet out… a little too quiet. Kimball check the time, still fairly early, the sun’s only just started to set. Usually there’s plenty of people milling about this late, anyone who has the night off making the most of it. Then again… she had noticed an odd number of people staying in their offices when she had left her own. Maybe they’re just all working late tonight. Everyone, on one of the first nights she, Carolina, and York have all had off together. 

There’s no possible way that’s a coincidence. 

Shaking her head a little, she heads into the building. After a brief debate with her stubborn side about taking the stairs, she heads for the elevator. It’s not that she needs to take it, she can handle stairs just fine, but… she doesn’t want to be rumpled and sweaty after eight flights of stairs tonight. Third wheel or not, she wants to look nice. 

The elevator gets her to the roof and she feels her stomach turn three times before the doors slide open. The first thing that catches her eye is the small table that very clearly doesn’t belong there. It’s been set up with three chairs, a shockingly neat table cloth, and a small vase with light blue flowers. Two of the chairs are already occupied, Carolina and York sitting opposite each other. They both look over at the same time and Kimball wants to get back in the elevator. 

She takes a breath. Calm down. This is nothing, just… just a casual dinner with friends, she can handle that. She’s walked into hopeless battles without flinching before, this shouldn’t be a problem. So she straightens her shoulder and strides over to the empty seat. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“You’re right on time,” York says, half moving like he wants to get up to pull her chair out for her, but Carolina gets there first. 

“You look amazing, Vanessa,” she says and then she leans in and presses a kiss to Kimball’s cheek and this has to be a dream. 

Kimball sinks into her seat on autopilot, her face hotter than a sun where Carolina’s lips touched. That didn’t just happen. She isn’t… they aren’t… she hasn’t had enough coffee today. 

York pours her a glass of wine--where the hell did they find wine here--and innocently nudges a small bowl of strangely shaped rolls toward her. She takes one hesitantly and glances over the surprisingly impressive spread on the table. “Where did you get all this?”

“The guys have been raiding old grocery stores since we got here,” Carolina says, shrugging. “And you’d be surprised what Grif can do in a kitchen when he’s the one cooking.”

Kimball’s eyebrows shoot up. She knows just how fond Captain Grif is of food, but she can’t even begin to guess how many shifts Carolina agreed to switch with him to arrange all this. Glancing between York and Carolina, she frowns a little. “It’s very kind of you to invite me, but… wouldn’t you two rather have tonight for just the two of you? I don’t want to interrupt your date night.”

They both stare at her for a second and then each other. York speaks first. “Why wouldn’t we want you at date night? Vanessa, we’ve been trying to get a night with you for months now.”

They’ve been doing what? Kimball just blinks at him. They can come by her office any day to just talk if that’s what they want, but--oh… Oh. That’s not what they want. 

She looks at him, eyes widening, then at Carolina. “This is… this is a date. You both asked me on a date. Oh my god.”

Leaning forward, she presses her face into her hands, half wishing York had poured her more wine, but then again, there’s not really enough in the universe to drown out the embarrassment. Her face has to be on fire. How did she not see it? The flowers, the long walks through the park? 

“We did,” Carolina confirms, nodding solemnly, but the smile tugging at her lips gives her away when Kimball risks a glance at her through her fingers. “We… probably could have mentioned that it was a date.”

“I guess I kinda thought the whole ‘dinner and a movie’ thing was self-explanatory. Whoops.” York rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Probably would’ve made things a lot easier if we had been more up front, wouldn’t have had to get Dee to fix it--”

The last piece clicks into place and Kimball curses under her breath. “Delta changed my schedule. I knew I had a meeting tonight.”

“A meeting that he rescheduled for next week so it’s no problem,” York says quickly, clearly trying to smooth things over, though he stops at a look from Carolina and winces a little. “Uh, it’s not a problem, right? I know we should’ve asked first, but--”

“But we knew you wouldn’t just take a night off for something like this,” Carolina says and Kimball would argue if it didn’t sound so much like she was speaking from experience. 

She wants to argue, but… Carolina’s not wrong. Her social life is basically non-existent now, it has been for a while. The only reasons she has the few friends that she does is because they keep barging into her office and hanging around until she has the time for them. She can’t cancel meetings for dates--she doesn’t get to go on dates. There isn’t time for a relationship, there’s barely time to get a cup of coffee before she has to go back to trying to dig herself out from under the mountain of work that never stops piling on. 

Slight frown on her face, her fingers drum lightly on the table. “Not that I’m not flattered, but… you realize that someone in my position--if you’re looking for a relationship, I can’t make any promises--”

“That’s okay, Vanessa.” Carolina’s hand covers hers and gives a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to promise us anything right now. We just… we both care about you and we want to give this a try. If you want us…”

York grabs her other hand and Kimball looks between then a few times, trying to ignore the warm, eager fluttering feeling that wants nothing more than to scream yes until the whole planet hears it. But it can’t be that simple. Even if it was just one of them, there would be a million complications, but the pair of them? 

She sucks in a breath. “I do,” she says slowly. “I want this, I want to date you. Both of you. But you have to know… it’s not going to be easy.”

York scoffs, free hand waving dismissively. “Who wants easy? It’s no fun if everything’s smooth sailing all the time.”

Kimball should probably argue that too, but she can’t bring herself too when he gives her that bright little grin, like she’s just given him the world. “Alright. Alright, then we’ll give it a try. But you know, I think I was promised dinner  _ and _ a movie.”

Carolina holds up a finger, signalling for her to wait as she lets out a loud whistle. There’s a second’s pause before a few very familiar voices drift up from the side of the building. Kimball can make out a very faint click before light projects from the building to the wall across the way, turning it into a massive screen. The opening credits role and Kimball just has to laugh.

It’s not a great movie, but it’s still nice enough when York takes her hand and then Carolina’s and leads them over to sit on the edge of the building, their feet dangling over the edge, all leaning on each other as they pass the dwindling bottle of wine back and forth. Kimball laughs more than she has in years and somewhere around the point where she drops her head onto Carolina’s shoulder as York stretches out over both of them, she decides maybe… maybe she can let herself make time for this, for them.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried writing this from York and Carolina's pov and it didn't quite come out the way I wanted, so I switched to Kimball's and I think it works better this way. It's been a while since I've gotten into her head so I hope her voice isn't too off here. Also, every version of Kimball I write has a prosthetic leg from the knee down, it's not a major plot point here, but just something I'm trying to be consistent about. Anyway, I'm so glad I got to write more Yorkimbalina for fluff week after ripping my heart out writing them for the angst war!


End file.
